Wolf of War
by MikeySilverlance
Summary: Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator, did not have the best track record with children. But now he has taken in a new son who might become a better mercenary than himself. Watch he becomes one of the most dangerous men in the world. OCxmultiple
1. Chapter 1

_**(Hey guys its me and I know i haven't updated either of my stories**_ **.** _ **That's because i haven't had any motivation to keep up with them. I honestly just forgot about them.)**_

 _ **Maybe you'll get a kick out of this new one. I've always been a fan of Young Justice. (Cartoon Network execs had their heads up their asses when the cancelled it.) So please enjoy this new little diddy. BTW if anyone can pm me gaelic and scottish mythology related to death and angels i'd be extremely grateful.) P.P.S Slade's voice actor in this is Michael Ironside.**_

* * *

 _ **Demon/Supernatural thoughts.**_

 _Human thinking_

 **Demon/Supernatural speech**

 _Human speech_

* * *

 **Dublin, Ireland**

 **City Centre: 12:45 CDT**

 **March 17, 1995.**

Slade POV

Slade had always like Ireland, it was beautiful, the people were friendly and the had some of the best booze in the world. The women were fiery and hot tempered and they had some of the greatest warriors in history.

His current contract was in the V.I.P box of the nightclub known around town of Cloverfield. He was a greedy, british mod boss who has a rather long list of offenses. Fraud, embezzling, contract killing, the works.

The Prime Minister himself had hired Deathstroke to do 'Dispose' of him in any way possible. There was even an investigation about him killing and selling children as sex slaves.

Now Slade may not be the best person, but killing and misusing kids, he was going to kill this piece of shit at half the price the prime minister had originally offered. This wasn't about money, it was about cleaning house.

While sure Vandal Savage and Lex Luthor might be some of the biggest super-criminals out there but even they wouldn't do that to children, legal adults yes but never children.

Since he wanted to show this slime ball he wasn't all how to make an entrance.

"Let's see, too many guards at the door, 10 guys total at the entrances and exits. No good sniper position." Slade looked up. "That skylight will do, though. Yes, that'll do just fine." Slade had very wide grin that threatened to slit his face as he thought up his plan. This was going to be very fun.

* * *

John Hargrove was by no means a perfect man, far from it actually. He was one of the worst people in the world. He knew it and didn't really care.

Women and kids, dollar signs and and pleasure tools for those who wanted them.

He ran a hand through his slicked back, muddy brown hair. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and a very expensive louis vuitton suit adorned with a watch on a chain. It featured classic, black wing tip shoes with custom brogues on it.

He had expensive Russian mail order girl at his right who looked scared to death. She was kidnapped from Moscow on his request.

He would never see her again after this night but she wouldn't see anything else period.

He was about to take a drink of Bushmill whiskey, when the sky light above him shattered and showered him in class.

The girl screamed and his behind the couch. he looked up and saw a black shadowed figure come through the skylight.

The heavily armored figure dropped down and landed on his chest, cracking if not breaking a few ribs. When he saw the mask he knew he was f $^$d!

It was a split between a blank black side with no features, while the right side had orange metal with a single eyehole.

The assassin then jumped up, pulled out two Browning 9 mm pistols and quickly disabled most of his guards. He landed a spin kick to the thug who came up behind him with a bat.

A couple more well placed shots and his entire security detail was down on the floor groaning.

From his spot on the floor he managed to say,"You morons were worth every penny, truly you were." He could barely move at all yet he still managed to get a smart ass remark in. It's remarkable isn't it.

"Trust me pal, _I'M_ worth every cent, ask my previous employers." A gravelly voice from behind him spoke. He looked and saw one of the most feared men on the planet, Deathstroke the Terminator.

"H-Hey listen brother whatever they're paying you i'll double it! Triple it!Take the girl! I'll give you whatever you want, just don't kill me!" He was not going to die today!

Slade was disgusted with this man. He had absolutely no dignity, no shame,

Slade pulled hargrove up by his collar and had him look directly into his masked face "Keep your blood money, I'm not killing you because you're my contract, I'm killing you on basic principle alone."

"But first I'm going to ask some very important questions. For every lie or incorrect answer I break something " Slade meant every word of it. Just torturing this bastard would be doing the world a favor.

"I'll tell you anything you want i'm the biggest coward you've ever met." The first true statement of the night.

"That's quite a claim" Deathstroke had met _a lot_ of cowards over the years.

"I've already wet myself" 2nd true statement.

"Well, you've now made the top ten, now where's the warehouse where you hold the live merchandise?"

"It's on the other side of town, it's on the corner of Malacock Dr. and St Patricks St. I swear."

"Thank you" Slade then broke all the fingers on hargroves left hand.

With a resounding _Crack!_ The fingers now looked like they had been run over by a 16-wheeler.

Hargrove the screamed in pain. The pain was almost unbearable,"I answered y-your q-questions."

"Yes you did, you didn't lie, I never said anything about me lying."

Slade pulled out one of pistols and aimed it at Hargrove spoke a verse that he had memorized to deal with the scum of the earth.

"There are six things which the LORD hates, Yes, seven which are an abomination to Him: Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, And hands that shed innocent blood, A heart that devises wicked plans, Feet that run rapidly to evil, A false witness who utters lies, And one who spreads strife among brothers Proverbs 6:16-19."

"You fit all of those descriptions. When you get to hell tell em that Deathstroke sent you, then apologize on my half for the inconvenience."

"Oh God NOOOO-!"

Bang! One perfect hole had appeared in John Hargroves forehead. He fell face down on the floor as his brains and blood flowed through the new hole in his head.

He looked to the girl looking at him with scared eyes. He pulled up his mask and spoke in a calm and comforting voice. "Выйдите из машины и пойти в паб Лаки Духов вниз по улице. Спросите вы Джонни , он получит вас домой Скажи ему , призывающие Slades' впользу.(Get out and go to The Lucky Spirits Pub down the street. Ask you Jonny he'll get you home. Tell him Slades' calling in a favor.)"

The girl nodded and spoke back,"Благодарю Тебя, Господь"

(Thank you, lord.) She ran out of the club as if the devil were at her heels.

20 minutes later, the warehouse was in front of him.

It took him 10 minutes to clear out the guards, and grabbing a ring of keys from the office. He walked to the giant cell and what he saw disgusted him.

The prisoners consisted of mostly beautiful women that had a miserable look and some small children with little to no life in their eyes. He began to unlock and free them. At first the children were fearful but they looked and saw what he was had finally been rescued. The amount of tears and smiles of gratitude had warmed Slade's old, iron heart. Soon all were free and running towards the exit.

As the women carried some of the weaker children out, a guard who just been knocked out came to and saw what was happening, he managed to pull out his weapon, pointed it at Deathstroke and almost fired had he not been bashed in the head with pipe by a boy who looked no older than 4.

The boy had the look of utter rage in his eyes as he kept swinging the iron cylinder and sought to bash the man's head in.

Wilson turned and saw the small child beat the large man to death. To take a life at that young age saddened him. When the guard was dead, the child turned to Slade and what the Terminator saw shocked him.

The child's eyes had turned a deep crimson, his nails had elongated to sharp claws. His hand had crushed the part of the pipe like paper. His ears had lengthened slightly and his canines had grew into sharp razors.

His brown-red-blonde hair was sticking up like a wolf's. His mouth was set in a snarl and Slade could hear growling coming from him.

Slade walked towards the boy and knelt down to look him in the eye. The child looked with no fear as he stared into the eye of the most dangerous mercenary in the world.

The eyes then shifted from bloody-crimson to silver-green. The fangs and claws receded and the growl. The child then slumped forwards but the Korean vet caught him mid-fall.

"What's your name boy?" Slade asked curiously.

"It's Michael O'Ghlóir, sir" (Ghlóir means Glory in Gaelic)

"Michael, why did you not escape with the others? I could of dealt with him easily." Why had he not run away with all his might?

Michael then looked down and the beginning of tears began to form in eyes. "I haven't got a home to back home. I have no parents, no relatives, no family. I wasn't about to let the man who freed me get shot in the back."

Slade sympathized and silently thanked the boy with the boy, his own father had left him and his mother when he was young and his mother had died in car crash 3 years later. He had faked about his age to the recruiters to prove himself. The boy had saved him(Even though it wouldn't have bothered Slade in the slightest, Nth metal was remarkably durable.)

This gave Slade an idea, but his family hadn't been the most stable, both his half-brother, sons, and ex-wife had tried to kill him an separate occasions. But his daughter Rose looked about the same age as Michael and could use some companionship. Wintergreen may be a great help, but she needed someone she could relate to. Someone her own age.

"Well since you don't have anywhere else to go, why don't you come with me."

Michael looked up in shock. The man who took down the men who kidnapped him and freed him from a life in hell was asking to adopt him.

"I can give you a life that you deserve and give you a family you always wanted. I live in a house that's far too big for me and my daughter. You'd be able to live in peace and be loved again."

Michael pondered the proposition, to have a family that loved him was the thing he always wanted. But he needed more something inside his soul screamed at him to not be weak anymore. Almost howling in-fact, if he had to be honest.

"I'll come with you but there is one condition."

Slade raised an unseen eyebrow. "Train me to do what you did tonight, teach me how to be a warrior. I don't want to feel weak and have someone protect me."

Beneath his mask Slade had a small smile as he heard the boy's request. Slade the offered the boy a hand and said, "Well come on, let's go home. _Son_."

Mike began to shed silent tears as he held his new father's hand. He let out a small prayer, ' _Whoever is watching over me thank you!'._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody, I'm back for another chapter of Wolf of War. First to the user named anon i do not understand your reviews, i'm sorry but clear it up and i'll get back to you. Now i am putting up a poll on my profile for who Michael will be paired with as a long-term or short-term relationship or friends with benefits. So enjoy.**

* * *

 **Demon/Supernatural Talking**

Human Talking

 _ **Demon/Supernatural Thinking**_

 _Human Thinking_

* * *

 **Taiga Forest, Russia**

 **September 12th 2010**

 **Time:8:28 pm ECT**

It was quiet

Too quiet

That's was one way to describe the forest. Nothing made a sound, not the trees, not the wind and not the animals.

Something wasn't right, something had muffled the forest and sent every living thing in 5 miles scurrying in the other direction.

Then when everything had been completely silent, a loud cackle had pierced through the quiet russian air. The laugh had rustled all the trees and shook the very atmosphere.

Then suddenly it looked as if a house was taking steps into clearing of wild flowers and grass.

If one looked closer one would see two chicken legs that was the source of the tremors that shook the forest and provided the house movement.

The cackle came from a witch that sat on the porch and held what appeared to be a russian nesting doll with a screaming child's face painted on it. The old witch was ugly and looked to be over 100 years.

Her dry, straw, gray hair around her like he had static going through her. Her face was covered liver spots, wrinkles and grease. Her eyes held a cunning intelligence and power.

Her mouth was full of rotten, razor sharp teeth. She had an old rag for a dress and what looked like talismans, wooden beads, and old jewelry.

"The souls of ten virgin women are mine, with these I will reclaim MY RUSSIA and cast out the false gods who forced me from home!" Her voice sounded like sandpaper on a chalk board.

This was Baba Yaga, Witch of Russia and a demon of the earth. The witch behind Hansel and Gretel, enemy of the god Perun and the bane of children.

At one point she was one of the most powerful magical/supernatural force in Russia until the gods from the Slavic, Celtic, and Norse pantheons had stripped her of her powers and banished her to the realm of Hel, home to the dishonored.

Now over 500 years later she walks the world of Man again causing malice and strife wherever she goes.

At least she would if someone wasn't trying to seal her back to Hel.

"Come on Baba, do really thing the gods are just going to let you come back that easily? You need to prioritize your goals. I think Hel misses you terribly"(Think Crispin Freeman with an Irish accent) A deep, charming voice broke through Baba's laughing.

She looked toward the voice and saw a man that was shadowed by the full moon's light. The only part him she could see clearly was the reflection of light from his goggles.

"Who are you to try and stop me mortal. The gods send a man to his death this night. I'll send your head back to Perun himself." Baba Yaga snarled furiously. This whelp didn't have anything that could stop her.

"Oh it wasn't just Perun that sent me. Odin, Dadga, and many others have sent me here to seal you. It's time for you to go back, hag." He stepped towards her and she finally saw his features.

He was tall, at least 6'4, broad shoulders and a lean body carved from granite. He looked to be at least 200 lbs and little of it fat. Tightly packed muscles built for speed, flexibility and wiry strength was a constant everywhere on his body.

His hair was a combination reds, golds and blacks. His eyes were hidden by goggles that shined white in the moonlight. His mouth and nose were covered by a black facemask.

He was clothed in a long black coat in which its ends flapped and waved behind him like tails.(Like how the Captain's coat in Hellsing does.)

Under it was a tactical vest/body-armor that protected his torso. Slim black combat pants that held small sharp blades, throwing daggers. Black steel-toed combat boots adorned his above average size feet. On his hand were black fingerless gloves.

"You really think you can kill me boy? I'll entertain you but let's make this fight just a bit more interesting." Baba would allow him to entertain her before she ruled the world. She knew just the man who would enjoy this. She held her hand up and with a snap of her fingers she summoned the one of the few true immortals to walk the Earth.

" _Koschei!"_ A horse whine sounded through the air.

"Oh, You summon the Man Without Death huh. This might be actually be fun." A smirk appeared under the man's mask. He was going to enjoy this.

Out of the woods a large, pale stallion appeared, accompanied by the sounds of thunderous hooves.

Saddled on the horse's back was a man most would call rugged. He stood at 6'7, had messy black/grey hair and a face covered in scars. A fleece coat was draped on his shoulders and twin axes at his sides.

Koschei the Deathless was a common villain in slavic folklore. He was immortal, in a sense. Centuries ago, Koschei went to Baba Yaga seeking to evade death in any shape or form.

She took his soul and trapped it in an egg, put the egg inside a duck, which was hidden inside a rabbit, the rabbit was put inside a goat, the goat was put inside an iron chest and buried on an island thousands of miles away from Russia.

With his soul or death taken from his body, he could no longer die. Injuries would heal at a rapid pace and he could not be stricken by illness.

"Who has made you summon me, Yaga? It can't be just anyone." His voice was like a landslide, deep, loud, and graveley. Baba Yaga wouldn't call him unless it was serious. She could handle almost anyone.

"This man has been sent by those foolish false gods to seal us. Take care of him."

Koschei grinned as he pulled his axes from his belt. He ran towards the stranger with bloodlust in his eyes. The man just calmly walked forward.

As he neared his opponent, he jumped and swung his weapons at the man's head only to be stopped by a hair from severing neck. He then noticed that his blade was blocked by what looked like blue-glowing strings. The man's hands were positioned like a puppeteer's with the strings leading back to his fingers.

"Nice try but that won't work with me. I want to savor this, you might actually give me a challenge." A movement of fingers and five glowing strings slashed Koschei across the chest. The russian villain jumped back before more damage could be inflicted.

Blood spurted the five lines across the immortals chest. Koschei grunted in pain as he felt a painful, burning sensation. Either the strings were blessed or made of silver. Maybe both.

"Ah, so you noticed. These aren't ordinary wires, these are micro nanofilament silver/iron wires blessed by the Father Anderson at 's cathedral in Dublin. They burn like acid to anything supernatural and strong enough to cut through a building. These may even put your immortality to the test. Let's try that theory shall we?" Koschei hated it when he was right sometimes.

The wires came again and again, and again and again Koschei was cut. While he had healing, the blessed silver was slowing it down a great deal.

"You know you're not much of a challenge, guess I was wrong. Oh well, time to end this little game." Koschei's enemy reached behind his back and pulled out a gun. Though it was more like a hand-cannon. He leveled the foot long barrel at the former-king.

"This little beauty is the 13mm semi-automatic anti-freak combat pistol. I like to call it the Jackal. Be careful this dog is _very_ hungry."

A loud _BANG_ then sounded throughout the clearing a hole the size of a dinner plate exploded on Koschei's chest. A loud sizzling came from the hole and Koschei screamed in pain.

"Why the burning you ask well those shells are over twice as powerful as Desert Eagle rounds. The tips are a combination of salt from the Dead Sea, silver shavings, white oak chips, holy water and iron dust. The basics for fighting any supernatural enemy. Not the most painless thing in the world is it?"

"Curse you, Mortal! I'll have your head as a trophy!" Koschei was trembling in pain. The holy bullets slowing his healing to an almost complete stop. The burning from the holy water and the other ingredients didn't help.

"Oh, just shut up. I swear you annoying minions just never stop talking, even when there's a giant hole in your chest." The tall man just couldn't the can just keep on talking.

"No matter how much you wound me, you can't kill me. I'm called the Deathless for a reason." Koschei couldn't be killed unless the egg that contained his soul was broken.

"True but I'm not going to kill you. Just seal you and that ugly-ass witch away for good." With a flick of his wrist, Koschei was wrapped in wires. The blessed silver began to burn him as he was tied up. Muffled screaming and smoke came from the mummy look-alike.

"One down, one to go. Come on Baba, why don't you try to fight me yourself. I'll make it less painful for you." A total lie but he knew she wasn't going to go for it.

"Foolish mortal! I will kill you over and over again!" Baba was seriously PO'ed now. She jumped on her mortar and flew towards him. She pointed her staff at the coat-wearing man and fired bolts of pure magic at him.

Dodging and weaving around the bolts, he shot at her but couldn't get close enough. She was quite agile on that flying mortar. More bolts and bullets, neither was backing down. While Baba Yaga had range and mobility the cloaked soldier was faster and more agile. Finally the coat wearing man finally had enough.

"Hmm, you know I might give you a special treat. I'll enjoy tearing you to pieces with my teeth." He then took off his coat and vest showing a sleeveless black top and his chiseled arms. Tribal tattoos trailed up from his wrist all the way to his shoulders and disappearing into his chest. The googles and and mask went next revealing a strong, narrow, chiseled jawline with his piercing, bright amber eyes. All in all he was an extremely handsome man

He dropped to the ground and spread out his arms and legs like a predator ready to pounce. His eyes then turned blood red. The tattoos on his arms glowed and sizzled, black fur began to grow over his body and muscles popped and grew, expanding his size. His face turned into a long muzzle and his teeth grew into razor sharp fangs. Standing up, he was over 8'0ft and packed with muscle. (Think of the werewolf van Helsing turns into in the 2004 movie)

Baba Yaga seemed impressed _, 'So the gods send a Vucari_ (Russian werewolves/Wolf demons) _to deal with me, smart._

In a blur of speed, the wolfman appeared in front of Baba and almost decapitated her with his claws. Baba kept flying but the wolfman was faster. She kept avoiding him by mere centimeters and was almost shredded to pieces. But she grew tired and that caused her to make mistakes.

With one backhanded strike, she was sent flying and landed harshly in the ground digging a trench from the momentum and force of the strike. She shakingly reached for her staff but her hand was crushed under the boot of her attacker.

She screamed in pain as the bones in hand were broken and dislocated. She then noticed the black clad man was back to his human form. Goggles and mask back on his face, coat and vest back in place as well.

"No one can give a challenge these days. Well you were sealed for a better part of 500 years so you aren't at full power. I'm not a Vucari by the way, those are almost extinct. I'm what's known as a _Faoladh._ That's Irish if ya don' know. Now excuse me while I call up my employer." With a flick of his wrist Baba was tied up much like her minion, only her face from her nose up was uncovered. Sizzling flesh and smoke came from her bindings as she withered in pain.

The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a runestone and spoke a few words in a language that was unpronounceable.

Thunder and lightning came from the sky along with buffeting winds and hard rain.

Soon a giant shape that seemed to be riding a horse came from the heavens along with several others.

The lead figure was a tall, older man with an axe in hand as he sat atop a white steed. His eyes while blue, glowed with power. He was only clad in a robe that covered his waist and thighs. This Perun supreme god of the Slavic pantheon.

Next to his was an older man in a viking helmet and eyepatch over his left eye. A single tipped spear was held in his left hand. He sat on a giant grey stallion but the special thing about it was that he had 4 pairs of legs 4 in the front and 4 in the back. Odin and his steed Sleipnir, the one-eyed head of the Nordic gods.

Next to him was the tallest out of the 3 men, he stood at 9ft tall and was built like a tank with blood red hair and bright green eyes that held a hard yet playful look. In his right hand he held a wooden club with metal studs and a spike on the handle. A black, iron cauldron was held in his left. This was The Dagda or Cera. Chief of the Celtic deities.

Perun had a grin that threatened to split his face when he looked at Baba and Koschei. Baba had a look of utter hatred as she looked at the 3 powerful beings.

"Well I believed I've fulfilled my part of the bargain. I even had them gift wrapped." The man remarked. All three of the gods nodded in tandem.

Perun spoke first, his voice in a thick slavic accent, was deep and powerful. "Ah, Baba you hag, how i've longed to see you wither in pain.I must say it has been worth the wait."

"For the havoc you've caused today and the evil you've caused for centuries, the punishment is: banishment." Odin spoke with air of authority. He pointed his spear to the ground and cast a beam of magic.

"Till the end of time you will be imprisoned in the Nevergloom, the realm of eternal twilight. Never again shall you see the night or day. Never again shall anyone seek you out." Cera's mouth never moved but a voice, deep like a landslide was heard in the mind of everyone present. His club fired the same spell as Odin.

"Only when the end of the universe has come to pass will you be released. Doomed to spend an eternity alone with only your hatred to keep you company. May you be forgotten by the people of this world and all others." Perun's axe cast the final part of the spell.

Glowing white chains appeared out of the portal, they wrapped up Baba, all while she muffled a scream in anger. Next was Koschei who tried to free himself from the wires. Finally Baba's cabin was pulled in as well. It's chicken feet clawing the ground in an effort delay the inevitable. In the end it was pulled in as well.

The nesting doll that Baba was using rolled to feet of the cloaked man. He bent down and had a look of pity and sadness as he looked into the eyes of the sacred, sobbing woman. He began pulling the dolls apart and letting the souls find peace.

"She will never harm this world again. Russia is safe", Perun spoke with a relieved tone.

"Lets hope, now about my fee." The man said with an unseen smile. The gods looked at the ground and shuffled their feet. The prices this man charged were outrageous! But considering he just saved the largest country in the world, they did owe him.

Odin whistled and onto his shoulder flew 2 giant ravens. A smaller raven landed in his hand pecked at him affectionately. He whispered to it and it cawed softly and flew towards the cloaked strangers outstretched palm. He caressed its small head and it nuzzled his hands.

It flew onto his shoulder and made itself comfortable. "Now what to call, you?" The bird cocked its head in confusion.

"Hm how bout Morrigan?"

The small bird shook his head.

"Lugh?"

Another shake.

"How 'bout Branwen?"

The bird seemed to like that one. Well the name did come from an old Irish queen. She had gotten a rotten end of the deal in his mind.

Cera summoned his gift next, he reached into his cauldron and pulled out a sword, it was a celtic bronze ritter flame sword with flame like patterns that seemed to flicker and change color.

"Be careful of how you use _Caladbolg,_ Fergus may not have a use for it in Otherworld but he still loves that sword. You better take care of it." Cera threw the sword with its red-gold sheathe. It landed in the black cloaked man's hand.

"Another addition to the armory then. This will help with the more _resistant_ freaks". That was understatement. The swords full power could cut the top of 3 hills like cutting through butter.

Perun got out his gift from a satchel on his horse. It was a chainmail shirt that shimmered like liquid gold.

"A mithril shirt made to expand and contract based on the wearer, handmade from the dwarves and the god _Dažbog._ Impenetrable from any manmade and supernatural weapons."

"Nth metal can only do so much." Armor against the supernatural was a must. The man began to walk away with his rewards.

"Wolf?." Odin called

The man-now known as Wolf turned back and looked back at the 3 beings.

"What will you do now?"

The man seemed to smile.

"My dad said he knows a group that pays well. Might hit them up."


End file.
